


Bond Boy

by colazitron



Category: James Bond (Movies) RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-09
Updated: 2009-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond goes 21st century, so he needs a Bond Boy. Anton is chosen. Daniel approves. A little too much, perhaps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bond Boy

Bond Boy

+++

“Bond Boy?” he had asked incredulously when Barbara had first told him about it. He had been called in for a meeting with her and the writers to discuss the rough plot outline for the next Bond. At his apparent surprise she had nodded from where she had been sitting opposite him in a small café in London. The writers flanked her and had a general air about them that suggested they didn’t like it when one messed with their creativity.

Daniel had merely raised an eyebrow and listened to them explaining about equality and the 21st century. About how it would modernize the franchise and how Bond was pretty equal opportunity when it came to sex anyway. And that he wouldn’t take the central Bond Girl role, but rather the ornamental one. The ‘get seduced, be used, die’ one.

In the end, he’d shrugged. It wasn’t like he hadn’t played gay before and it definitely would shake things up a bit and make for great headlines once they’d had to try to lure people into the theaters to watch the film. He had said he would think about it and get back to Barbara in the next few days. He supposed it was rather nice of her to ask his opinion in the first place. Sure, there was this clause about him having some say about the script but that only went so far.

Satsuki had giggled delightedly when he had told her and remarked that he would be making a lot of girls really happy with this. So he had called Barbara up the next day and agreed.

  
+++

It was about eight months later that Barbara called to tell him that they might have found someone who could possibly pull it off. Daniel quirked his eyebrow at her careful phrasing. Normally she only called him very late in the casting process when the decision had more or less been made already. She seemed to be unsure about this one.

“Anton Yelchin?” he repeated, catching Satsuki’s attention, who looked up and cocked her head to the side, wanting to know more.

“Has he done anything big before?” he asked. ‘What’s he look like?’ mouthed Satsuki, making him shake his head, grinning.

“Yes. He was in ‘Star Trek’, ‘Terminator: Salvation’ and ‘New York, I Love You’ just last year. I think he could do it, but since we’ve never done anything like this before, I want you to meet the kid and tell me whether you think he could.”

He nodded along to what Barbara was saying, throwing in a “yes, yes, sure”, when he remembered she couldn’t see her and watched Satsuki type away on her laptop. She was obviously googling for him.

“Have you already set up a meeting?” he asked his producer and watched the face of his girlfriend for a reaction to what she found.

“I was hoping you could make it on Friday next week? He’ll have to fly in for it and I was hoping we wouldn’t have to push this around a lot until it worked out.”

“Friday?” he repeated again, meeting Satsuki’s eye and giving his okay at her nod.

“Shouldn’t be a problem at all. Call me again when you have a confirmation.”

“I’ll do that, Daniel. I hope you’ll like this guy. Have a nice evening.”

“Same to you,” he answered and hung up, setting the phone down. Satsuki waved him over to where she was looking at pictures still.

“He’s quite adorable,” she said. “And he’s got wonderfully expressive eyes.”

Daniel smiled at her approval. It was important to both of them that she knew who his film partners were and what they looked like. Especially if they were going to be kissing. And if he was supposed to be a Bond Boy, there was bound to be kissing. At the very least.  
She respected his profession and made no big deal out of it, but she wanted to be informed. He was perfectly alright with this.

They spent another half hour on the internet, finding out about Anton Yelchin what there was to find out. They had even listened to a music sample of his band. By the end Daniel had concluded that while he wasn’t a bombshell like the Bond Girls usually were, there was something about those ‘wonderfully expressive eyes’ Satsuki seemed to like so much that could easily reel someone in. And judging by the movies he had done, he wasn’t an amateur either and apparently open to any script that caught his fancy. Daniel was actually looking forward a little to meeting this young man.

+++

The waiter led him to where the boy was already waiting for him at a table in the back of the hotel café. He dismissed him with a “thank you” and tried not to let his surprise at his possible future cast mate getting up to greet him show. It was prejudiced, he knew, but he never expected people half his age to do that anymore.

“Mr. Craig,” he smiled in greeting and held out his hand for Daniel to shake.

“Mr. Yelchin,” he replied and allowed his lips to curl slightly at the startled blinking of his eyes that showed that the younger man wasn’t yet used to people addressing him that way. Sitting down he took a moment to take in the appearance of the young man opposite him. Skinny dark jeans, a grey band shirt and a black jacket. Well, in that respect he seemed to be a perfectly normal kid then.

“What can I get you, sir?” the waiter asked him and Daniel gave up wondering how they did that sneaking up thing and appearing without anyone actually noticing.

“I’ll have a double espresso. Milk on the side. Thank you,” he ordered and followed the waiter’s gaze to the still half-full glass in front of Mr. Yelchin. The young man merely smiled dismissively and the waiter scurried off to prepare Daniel’s coffee.

“Are you a big fan of James Bond, Mr. Yelchin?” Daniel addressed the young man opposite him, not really in the mood for chit-chat.

“Oh, please, unless it bothers you, I’d prefer if you called me Anton.”

Daniel smiled. Yes, obviously not used to formalities.

“Not at all. It’s Daniel then,” he replied, simply because he liked to be on equal ground with his conversational partners. Anton smiled acknowledgement and opened his mouth to answer the question, but was interrupted by the waiter setting down Daniel’s ordered coffee.

“Please,” Daniel invited him, while taking up his cup and taking a careful sip of the black drink.

“I… No, I’m not really a fan, I’m afraid. I’ve seen a lot of the older Sean Connery once as a kid but I lost interest somewhere along the line. My former girlfriend made me watch Casino Royale though, and I watched Quantum of Solace on the flight over,” he offered and Daniel nodded along to signal he was listening.

“And did you like them?” he asked. There was no point in working with someone who couldn’t be passionate about what he was doing. There surely were hundreds of boys out there who would be thrilled to be the first Bond Boy.

“I did. They weren’t at all like I had expected them to be,” Anton readily answered. Daniel cocked his head a little in surprise and interest and poured the milk into his coffee.

“What were you expecting them to be like?” he prodded and added sugar.

“Shallow,” the younger actor readily smiled and Daniel thought it a good sign that he felt comfortable enough with Daniel and himself to say that to his face so easily.

“I think a lot of people were surprised by that,” he replied and took up his coffee cup again. Anton merely smiled and took up his glass of what appeared to be latte macchiato.

“If you’re not a fan, though, why would you be interested in being part of it?” he asked when he set his cup back down.

“Well, it’s not like I have anything against it. And I really liked the development on the Bond Girls in the last two movies. I mean, Vesper chooses death for his as much as for her sake and Camille is probably the first Bond Girl who hasn’t actually slept with Bond. And now you’re going for a Bond Boy. That is probably the most major change in a franchise as big as James Bond like… ever. Why would I not want to be a part of that?”

Daniel looked at the excitement shining in the young actor’s eyes and the wide smile that spread out over his face and decided to call Barbara and give her his okay. Anton was passionate and unafraid and seemed to be dedicated. He was a good choice.

  
+++

He came in that day to observe Anton’s day with Malcolm. The readings had gone over well, but there was only so much you could tell about a person by having them read lines. He was curious to how the young actor would handle being a 66-year-old’s boy toy, even if only fictionally.

Exceptionally well, he had to conclude after observing them shoot the same scene a couple of times over.

It was the introductory scene for Anton’s character. He was lounging on a large bed on his stomach, naked, the blanket only barely covering him, typing away on a laptop while Malcolm got dressed for a fancy dinner party, from the look of it.

“I will be back by twelve o’clock,” Malcolm stated, voice stern, fixing his bow tie in front of the mirrored doors of the closet.

“Just like Cinderella,” Anton commented, his legs lightly swinging in the air, still engrossed in his work on the laptop. Malcolm raised an eyebrow and it was hard to tell whether he was amused by the boy’s cheek or disapproved of it. He pulled on the dinner jacket and pocketed the invitation – villains only ever attended invitation-only parties, after all – and stepped next to the bed, catching one of Anton’s feet. Holding on to his ankle, he bent down to kiss the sole before he let go of it.

Anton didn’t even flinch; taking the caress like it was a daily occurrence. Daniel smiled. Yes, he had been a good choice.

“You will have to get dressed, Misha. I’m expecting a delivery and I want you to receive it.”

It was only now that Anton lifted his gaze from the laptop, nodding dutifully.

“Of course, Mr. Colville.”

Marc’s happy “cut” rang through the otherwise silent room as Malcolm exited what was to be the cabin of a yacht. Anton got up, smiling, wrapping the blanket around himself and started talking animatedly with Malcolm about God knew what. Daniel let the pride he felt for this boy’s performance swell a little and stretch out over his lips in a smile. With a nod to Marc, he left.

+++

He met Anton in make-up the day they were to shoot their first scene together. Ironically, it was also the scene in which Mikhail died.

“I’m kinda nervous about dying. It’s difficult,” Anton confessed. Daniel smiled at him over the mirror, where he could easily connect their eyes.

“You’ll manage. The most important thing to remember is not to over do it. Death really isn’t anything heroic or overly dramatic. It’s a sad, silent event in most cases.”

Anton nodded thankfully, scrunched up his eyebrows though.

“I do get shot by a sixty-something though who I’d let fuck me for the past who knows how many years in order to protect a girl who I only ever exchanged letters with and never found out isn’t really my sister.”

“So maybe it is a bit dramatic,” Daniel conceded, smiling. He wondered how many shirts they would go through until Marc would be satisfied with the scene. Shooting death scenes was always a bit of a hazard, especially if gun shot wounds and blood was involved. Anton chuckled silently and hung around to wait for him to be done.

 

Daniel could never keep track of time when shooting a scene, but Anton had died in his arms four times already and they were quickly approaching a fifth.

“Keep Katyusha safe. She shouldn’t have to grow up like this,” Anton’s Mikhail solemnly pleaded as he handed over an inconspicuous brown folder. His eyes were open and bare in a way Daniel suspected only those who knew they were going to die dared to look at others with.

The shock that ran across his face at the sudden collapsing of the young man and his eyes dulling and breaking wasn’t purely Bond, Daniel knew. Blood soaked the fifth shirt and Daniel frantically dragged the lax body over to the stair case, using him as a shield from the other gun shots that couldn’t be heard, but pierced Mikhail’s dead body never the less. There he carefully, but hurriedly, lowered him to the ground and ran his hand over his face to close his eyes.

“I will,” he promised, quickly looking around for any more shooters before sprinting down the stairs.

It took them one more take before Marc had gotten all the angles he wanted and Daniel was glad he wouldn’t have to watch Anton die anymore. Something about it had struck a chord within him he had not anticipated to be struck. It was unnerving and agitated him.

At home Satsuki giggled at him for being overly emotional and probably a little stressed. Shooting the Bond movies always did take a lot out of him.

+++

Flirting with Anton proved to be even more agitating.

“Oh, Mr. Bond. You didn’t actually think it would be that easy, did you?” Anton asked, his voice dripping with sarcastic motherliness before downing a shot of what was to be perceived as Vodka, throwing his head back and revealing the smooth line of his throat.

“A man can dream,” Daniel smirked, taking a sophisticated sip of his Martini that Bond still couldn’t be arsed to ask for as “shaken, not stirred”. Anton smiled, lowering his lashes over a smoldering gaze in such a manner it seemed to mock Bond more than anything else. It heated something within Daniel that was not supposed to feel any shift in temperature.

“You can dream all you want. Meanwhile, do excuse me. I have some business to tend to.” Anton inclined his head in a mock respectful greeting, before gracefully sliding off the bar stool and sashaying off into the crowd of people.

Marc’s cry of “cut” felt like salvation. A feeling that was quickly overridden by dread when he informed them they were going to have to do it again, and this time, could we get an olive in the Martini, so that Anton could steal it, maybe? Daniel swallowed a groan and surrendered to his fate.

Satsuki was even more amused by this.

“He is two decades younger than you and yet you get all worked up about this? You’re turning into a dirty old man. I wonder what kissing him will do to you,” she giggled. Carding her hands through his hair she pulled him into the direction of the bedroom.

“This boy must really be something. Should I worry?” she joked, lowering them both onto the mattress. Capturing her lips in a tender kiss, he felt himself relax and gave in to her slight teasing.

“Well, he does have wonderfully expressive eyes,” he quoted her, ignoring that Anton really did have intriguing eyes. She giggled some more, pushing the soft fabric of his cotton t-shirt further up his torso.

“But he’s not you,” he assured her and blocked all thoughts that weren’t focused on the lovely woman underneath him from his mind.

  
+++

Kissing Anton, it turned out, was the worst thing. Not because Anton was a bad kisser (not like that mattered for a movie) or being unprofessional and childish about it. Quite the contrary.

Bond pushed Mikhail through the door to his hotel room roughly. The boy grinned at him, a little pity in his expression.

“You really think you’re going to break me, Mr. Bond?” he challenged and Bond pushed him back hard against a wall as an answer. Mikhail deflected a punch that Bond tried to deal him and retaliated with a kick. Bond stumbled back, caught his footing and the young Russian by surprise, slamming him into a mirror. The glass shattered, falling to their feet as they continued to struggle.

Adrenaline coursed through Daniel’s veins much like the first time he had shot an action sequence for Bond. He grabbed for Anton’s wrists with one hand and his chin with the other, squeezing it hard and hissed at him.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, boy, but one way or another you will give me the information I need.”

Anton spat in his face spitefully and wrenched one of his hands out of his grip, grabbing a conveniently placed vase and smashing it into the side of his head. He stumbled backwards and Anton escaped to the side.

They were cut shortly before Bond grabbed the younger man and threw him down onto the bed of the hotel room and Daniel felt as if someone had just pulled him out of a pool he had been drowning in.

He listened to Marc telling them to keep the hostility and animalistic fever and let it bleed into the sexual aspects of the next scene, but barely registered the words. Before he knew it, he had been pushed back into the pool by the simple command of “action”.

He overwhelmed Anton easily and propelled him down onto the bed, surging on top of him and quickly disabling his defenses. He knelt next to his thighs, so he could easily press his legs down into the mattress with his own, held both of his smaller wrists in one of his larger hands and clamped the other over his mouth, making it impossible to speak (or spit) and a lot more difficult to breathe.

He leaned down dangerously close until Anton’s blazing grey eyes almost blended into one before his own.

“Changed your mind yet?” he asked, grinning ferally. Anton jerked violently, but couldn’t free his hands this time (or so the script said) and had to settle for a heated glare. Daniel tried ignoring the rush of power that made him feel and channeled it into Bond when that didn’t work as well as he had hoped.

Anton bit down on his hand almost hard enough to draw blood and it took a lot of will-power not to jerk his hand back like he wanted to. Instead he slowly drew it back, taking a wrist in each hand and pinning them down into the mattress far above Anton’s head and bit his lip in retaliation, earning the scripted yelp.

They stared at each other, breathing raggedly, each counting to three in their heads, just like they had agreed to do, before surging forward and smashing their lips and teeth together in what must have been one of the messiest and most painful kisses either of them had ever had.

Releasing Anton’s wrists, he tore open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere and just so managed to keep his hands from doing the same to him, instead pressing them down into the sheets, at the more comfortable position next to his head this time. He bit his way into his mouth and then down his throat, over his chest, knowing that Anton was counting in his head again.

“Oh. _James_ ,” he sighed cuing Daniel into releasing his hands and returning to his face to kiss the by then willing lips again.

Marc’s “cut” tore through him with unexpected intensity and when he got up to give Anton his personal space back, he felt his hands shake and had to control his breathing so it wouldn’t come out in gasps and hurried intakes of breath.

Kissing Anton destroyed the barriers he had started to build unnoticed by even himself the moment Satsuki had pointed out his eyes. He felt like an overwhelmed teenager. And he hated it. No other film partner had ever managed to break him down so completely.

  
+++

The last few scenes he had with Anton were fairly easy and harmless in comparison. He managed to quench any weird sort of bubbling that happened somewhere in his stomach region whenever he saw Anton and didn’t come again to see him act in his other scenes. He was there on his last day to say good-bye, since they would only see each other again at the premiere, and he was secretly glad about it.

The rest of the shoot went over smoothly and Satsuki smiled at him, when he had managed to force all thoughts of Anton to the furthest corner of his mind and he was visibly more relaxed.

“We should take a short vacation once you’re done shooting,” she suggested and three weeks later they did. He managed to not once think of grey eyes and brown curls while he kissed her.

+++

Satsuki was all smiles and friendliness when he introduced her to Anton at the premiere. As was he. They hit it off immediately, joking like old friends and teasing him mercilessly. He was happy to note that the smile that spread on his face was due to fondness for both of them and not anything inappropriate that he did.not.feel. for Anton.

The reporters demanded their attention far too soon though and Daniel pitied Anton for not having brought a date that could serve as a totally legitimate excuse to hurry on inside. Satsuki insisted on waiting for him and asked him to sit by them during the showing of the film. He had happily accepted and had sat down on her other side once they were inside the showing room. The smile Satsuki had worn had reminded him of the proverbial cat with its canary and he had shared an amused smile with Anton over her head.

During the movie he glanced over to see her reactions to various scenes like he always did. He had seen the film before and found it far more interesting to see how people reacted to it.  
When Mikhail brushed Bond off in that nonchalant way of his, she giggled inaudibly. As did quite a few others.  
When they tumbled into bed together, she grinned and squeezed one of each of their hands, that canary smile back on her lips.  
When M told Bond in the end that the MI-6 had found out that there was in fact no Yekaterina Nikitin and the boy’s precious little Katyusha had been a mere ploy to keep him loyal to Colville, she had covered her mouth with her hands.

He smiled and squeezed her hand.

 

The champagne that was served afterwards made friends with Satsuki’s bubbly and Anton’s awkward laughter far too quickly and made things boil inside him that he could no longer place. He didn’t even know whether they were caused by the champagne, his girlfriend or the first Bond Boy ever. He sincerely hoped it wasn’t the latter.

After shaking a dozen more hands, Satsuki announced that she would be heading home, knowing that Anton would keep him good company and being not particularly fond of these fancy to-dos anyway. She exchanged pleasantries with Anton and urged him to pay them a visit should he ever be in London. He thanked her and extended an invitation for LA.

“She’s great,” Anton smiled as they both stood and watched her leave. Daniel smiled back and, not knowing what to say, merely said “thank you.”

Without Satsuki there, people seemed to have less shame to bombard them with questions about their kissing scenes. The questions forced Daniel to recall every annoying thing he had.not.felt. and phrase it in a diplomatic way that told the reporter or whoever it was that was asking to fuck off without actually telling them to.

He marveled at Anton’s seemingly easy chatter with an especially importunate reporter, the way he managed to throw in a lightly suggestive comment and yet politely steered the conversation to a quick stop all the same, making the woman feel victorious that she had gotten her scoop and at the same time getting rid of her in under three minutes.

He grabbed another glass of champagne to drown the thing that was.not.happening. inside his stomach and was glad to be whisked away by Barbara to impress a few potential money-sources for the next movie.

Sadly, chatting up money on legs proved to be far too dull to provide a sufficient distraction and the champagne really didn’t help either. It made it worse. It made him recall the exact texture of his deliciously pale skin (that he hadn’t even been aware of), the smell of his golden-brown hair (and when had he ever smelled that?) and the taste of his sinfully pink lips.

It angered him. Who did the kid think he was that he could just spread out in his mind like that? Who did he think he was to monopolize his attention like that without even being present? What was he trying to gain from confusing him like this? He had a girlfriend, for Christ’s sake! Did that little shit seriously think he could break him and Satsuki up? These career-hungry kids were the worst. The way they’d sacrifice anything just to be someone was infuriating, was what it was.

Excusing himself from the conversation he turned and started wandering the venue, scanning the people for a familiar head of curls. He had some questions of his own to ask the young actor. So when he spotted him talking to yet another reporter or nosy premiere guest, he politely intercepted the conversation, charmed his conversational partner into leaving and then grabbed Anton’s arm, dragging him into an empty room.

“Daniel, what the hell?” Anton asked him, looking taken aback and slightly angry. Oh, he didn’t get to be angry. Daniel narrowed his eyes at him and pushed him up against a wall, his hand still gripping Anton’s upper arm in a way that was probably a little painful. Good, he thought.

“What the hell are you playing at?” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“Playing at? I’m not playing at anything! One second I’m making polite conversation, next thing I know you drag me here. And FYI, you’re hurting me,” Anton bit back looking thoroughly confused. Daniel gave a dark little laugh.

“Do you really think I’m that stupid? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Notice what, for God’s sake?” Anton looked at him imploringly and tried wriggling out the hold he had on him, but Daniel wouldn’t have any of that and gripped his other arm too.

“How you always smile at me. The ‘polite conversation’ you were having with Satsuki to get her to leave. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish with that.”

Anton’s face darkened.

“I’m not trying to accomplish anything other than you letting me go,” he answered. Daniel barked another dark laugh. So he was playing hard-to-get now?

“No need to be coy,” he stated, stepping up into Anton’s personal bubble, using his much larger body to push him against the wall even more firmly.

“I know that you want this.”

“You’re drunk,” Anton declared. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I promise you that I don’t want anything like this from you.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Daniel replied and crashed his lips into Anton’s as if to prove him wrong. Anton jerked his head to the side and ground out “what the hell?” before Daniel quickly captured both his wrists in one hand and jammed them between their bodies, his other hand free to grab onto Anton’s chin and keep him steady so he could re-start the kiss.

Daniel licked and nipped and bit at his lips and they felt and tasted just like he thought he could remember, only Anton wouldn’t open them. Instead he pulled at his hands, making it impossibly difficult to hold him still and tried to jerk his body out between Daniel and the wall.

Why wouldn’t he cooperate?

Daniel squeezed his jaw and felt Anton tremble in his effort not to give in to the pain before he surrendered and let Daniel’s tongue slip into his mouth. When he simultaneously wedged a thigh in between the younger man’s he bit down on his tongue and made him draw back instantly.

“Why you-” he started, but broke off immediately when his slightly hazy brain registered the glistening in the stormy grey eyes before him for what it was: unshed tears. One of them slipped free and slowly slid down a reddened cheek. There were fingerprint-like bruises forming on either side of his face.

He drew his hands back from Anton’s arms as if he were burned and almost jumped back a step. Anton wiped the tear off his cheek and fixed his unbroken gaze on Daniel’s own. There was a little accusation in them, but no heart-felt contempt.

“You didn’t scream,” Daniel whispered, suddenly realizing how much this boy really trusted him.

“I hadn’t tried to knee you in the balls yet,” Anton answered, a cruel kind of amusement tingeing his voice a darker shade than Daniel was used to. He automatically knew that Anton would have screamed for help if all else had failed. That would most probably have been the end of Daniel’s career. That, in turn, was a rather sobering thought.

“Thank you,” he silently replied and adverted his gaze.

“What the hell just happened?” Anton questioned, seeking out Daniel’s eyes with his own. Daniel raked a hand through his hair, trying to fight the images of what he had just done, what he would almost have done running through his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he offered.

“Explain,” Anton demanded, gaze still unyielding. Daniel swallowed and opened his mouth to feed him some sort of excuse that wouldn’t make him deal with what had really happened, but before he knew it, words were pouring out of him unchecked.

“I think I… developed some sort of crush on you throughout the shoot and I didn’t want to deal with it, because … how ridiculous is that? Not that there is anything ridiculous about you but, come on, I’ve lived twice as long as you have and I don’t even know you all that well. Besides, I have a girlfriend and a child at home. Two, in fact.”

He interrupted his rant to run his hands through his hair helplessly again and ignored the wonder and confusion that spread on Anton’s face in favor of pushing forward and getting this over with. Every word felt like a weight that was lifted off his chest. He hoped he wasn’t putting them all on Anton but he couldn’t help it if he was.

“Shooting that scene on the bed with you though… that almost killed me. And my denial somehow twisted this whole thing around and … well, the champagne did the rest.” He took a deep breath and faced Anton full on again.

“I am so very sorry,” he repeated.

“Okay,” Anton nodded. It wasn't forgivness, but the projected future in which it was possible. Daniel marveled at the strength he showed even though the way he kept his distance clearly showed that it was for both their sakes. Causing a scene here wouldn't do either of them any good.

“Holy shit, Daniel Craig has a crush on me,” Anton breathed, confused and disbelieving.

“He does,” Daniel confirmed and reached to ruffle his hair. Anton didn't flinch, but a look flitted across his face that had Daniel take his hand back. Anton smiled up at him, a little shakey.

“I'll get over it. And you’ll get over me. Others have, too”, he promised. “But now you need to get home and sleep.”

Daniel smiled back and exited the room, maneuvering through the remaining people with ease. Anton followed without much thought. Somehow they weren't done yet.

“You’re a great kid, you know?” Daniel told the younger actor who winked and grinned back at him. Daniel almost believed it.

“You’re biased.”

Daniel quirked an amused eyebrow stepping out into the cool night air.

“Could you tell Barbara that I’ve gone home?” he asked the young man at his side and strolled towards one of the black cabs. Anton nodded.

“Sure. I’ll tell her you have a curfew.” When Daniel stepped up to the car and opened the door, his still tight-lipped (rather British, Daniel noted) smile slipped a little.

“Well, I guess this is good-bye then.”

“Won’t you be coming to any of the other premieres?” Daniel asked, surprised. Anton shook his head.

“Only the LA one tomorrow. I’m in the middle of shooting Star Trek right now,” he explained.

“Huh,” Daniel replied, running a hand through his hair. “It is good-bye then.”

Anton reached out his hand, much like the first time they had met and smiled a little more honestly at him. The seperation was probably good for them. Otherwise someone may have caught on.

“Have a nice life, Daniel Craig,” he said.

“What have I told you about being overly dramatic,” Daniel replied and grasped his hand, squeezing it. “The world’s not that large a place. But I hope you will have one of those too.”

He got into the cab, giving the driver his address and watched Anton fade into the distance a little, before he turned and walked back inside. If he had to have a silly crush on a boy half his age, he was glad it was on Anton Yelchin.

+++

The End


End file.
